


but i'm here, through the long night with you

by OllieOllieOxenfree (BeauBrummellBaby)



Series: through the long night - Weekman [5]
Category: Bandom, Falling in Reverse, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), Panic! at the Disco, The Brobecks
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Miscommunication, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, spencer being a good friend, vaguely implied one-sided spallon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:15:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeauBrummellBaby/pseuds/OllieOllieOxenfree
Summary: assorted series extras for the Through the Long Night universe. Not in any particular order, ratings and summaries at the beginning of each chapter
Relationships: Breezy Weekes & Dallon Weekes, Ryan Seaman/Dallon Weekes, Spencer Smith & Dallon Weekes
Series: through the long night - Weekman [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844041
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. New Year's Eve with the Brobecks!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G/T  
> The Brobecks say goodbye to 2008 and hello to 2009. Dallon says hello to loneliness as he ponders whether he'll ever have a chance with Ryan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so if you're reading this when it's new, do not panic. I haven't given up on "it's so late, but i've waited". All I'm doing is starting to post these oneshots so that scenes in the main series will start to make a little more sense. And... some of these flashback oneshots will be referenced in chapter 2 of "it's so late, but i've waited".
> 
> If you're reading this after the main series is complete, well, disregard that.

Ryan is glowing. Dallon’s always thought that description was an exaggeration, but now that it’s uncomfortably close to midnight and the room is decked out in gold streamers and tinsel everywhere, he stares at the way the light refracts from every surface to turn Ryan’s messy brown fringe into a halo, and he decides that yes. Ryan is in fact glowing.

“God’s played a cruel trick on me, Breezy.” He’s speaking into the plastic flute full of sparkling cider, but he knows she’s there. He knows she’s listening. “Making him so beautiful, and so close, but so far out of my reach.” Breezy takes the glass from him, takes a sip, and puts it back in his hand. “What was that for?”

“Making sure you hadn’t somehow gotten the alcohol. You didn’t, by the way. That raw, unfiltered yearning is all you, babe.” She wraps her arm around his shoulders. “You know, if you told  _ him _ these things instead of me, you’d have a pretty good shot with him.”

“I can’t.” He sighs and sets down the glass, afraid he’ll break it. Dallon and delicate things were never meant to mix. “What if I scare him off? I can’t afford to break up the Brobecks again so soon.” He hopes Breezy hears the subtext under those words,  _ I can’t lose anyone else _ .

Breezy, as always, understands. She takes off Dallon’s feather headband, then her own glittery top hat, and ruffles Dallon’s hair before switching them. He smiles, knowing what she means. Her way of saying  _ at least you’ll never lose me _ . “It’s almost midnight.”

“Breezy-”

“You could. Start your year off right.”

“I couldn’t.” Dallon gazes longingly at Ryan, those dumb plastic glasses slipping off his nose as he giggles. “He’s drunk. I couldn’t do anything right now, when it would mean nothing to him and everything to me.” He picks up his glass again, rubbing at the lipstick stain Breezy left on the rim. He feels her cheek press into his shoulder. “He’s the one drinking, so why do I feel drunk just looking at him? The way he wears that pretty haze like a bridal veil, making him ethereal. I want him in this state just as much as I want to tear away the veil and see the human face beneath, want to lay him out and spend hours searching for every imperfection I’m sure he doesn’t have. I want him in every state, drunk, sober, human, angel, wretch, lover- and I can have none of them.”

“Dallon.” She nods toward the tv in the corner of the room, showing the ball drop in New York on a three-hour delay. It’s just seconds to midnight.The other guys are starting to count down, and Dallon tries hard not to focus on the way Ryan’s voice stands out from the others as they shout.

“Happy New Y-” Ryan’s voice is abruptly cut off by a kiss.

Dallon could imagine the way Ryan felt under him, the way his lips would seize in shock and quickly melt into the kiss. He keeps imagining it as he watches Ryan melt into a giggling mess under Matt, the two of them kissing drunkenly. He wants to be jealous or angry with Matt, but he can’t.

Distantly, he registers Breezy kissing him on the cheek. “Happy New Year, Dallon.”

He watches for another second, watching the kiss break as Ryan and Matt laugh too hard to continue, and Matt sprawls out on the couch next to Ryan rather than in his lap where he was seconds before. Dallon tries not to think about the fact that Ryan made no attempt to push Matt away. “Happy New Year, Breezy.” He gives her an innocent peck on the lips. “Any resolutions?”

She shrugs. “Work on a movie again, get a girlfriend, get buff. Plus, you know, all the normal stuff. You?”

Dallon continues watching Ryan. “Just two. Keep a band together. Kiss Ryan Seaman.”

Ryan looks across the room at Breezy and Dallon, sitting on the table, and waves with an obnoxiously wide grin. Breezy nudges Dallon’s shoulder. “I think you’ve got a decent shot at those.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yearning hours in this household are 24 fuckin 7


	2. all your past sins are since past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  
> Set immediately following dark silence with bright music, Dallon wonders whether he can salvage his blossoming relationship with Ryan.

_DW: Breezy? You there right now?_

_Breezy Dee: Yeah baby what is it_

_Breezy Dee: Dallon?_

_Breezy Dee: I’m gonna call you, okay?_

“Dallon? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Even in its worried state, her voice is so soothing.

“B, I-” Dallon does his best to choke down a sob, but it’s still audible. “I fucked something up with Ryan. I think he wants to break up with me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Breezy starts, and her tone makes Dallon want to cry even more. It’s the kind of tone people use when they know something is already over and they’re trying to offer condolences. He doesn’t want condolences. He wants Ryan. “Is it okay if I ask what happened?”

“H- he came to see me. He and Spencer set it up as a surprise, but,” he notices himself stuttering, and the realization makes him want to tear out his own tongue. He settles for pulling on his hair a little too hard. “But I was just so frustrated at everything going on, with Zack and Kenny and Brendon just being themselves, and Spencer leaving soon, I unloaded onto him. And…” Dallon cringes. “I begged him to fuck me. And he said no.” His breath shakes as he tries to steady it, coming in sobs and hiccups. “He told me to find someone else.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Is it really?” Dallon doesn’t mean to snap, and the outburst just makes him start crying again. “Or did I deserve it?” His whole body shakes. Ryan left, now Breezy is going to leave, all because he can’t control himself. He feels sick. “Breezy, I think I’m drunk. Why did I do that? Why did I have that beer with the other guys? Ryan doesn’t love me anymore because I’m drunk.”

“Hey, baby, shshshshsh.” Dallon can imagine Breezy’s hands, one rubbing circles into his back and one resting on his knee. The fact that they aren’t really there only serves to make him feel worse. “I’m sure it’s not as simple as that. I know Ryan, and I know you. I don’t believe he’d ever stop loving you.”

“But I’m not the same guy he fell in love with,” Dallon whines, protesting his own good name. “I drink coffee and swear and wear leather and get drunk and I hate it, Breezy, I hate it all. Why wouldn’t he?”

“I’ve known you longer than he has. You’re not the same person I first met and told I loved him either. Does that mean I love you any less now?”

“You should.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Dallon’s heart stops. Breezy seems to notice, and softens her tone after a brief pause. “Dal, where are you? Are you safe?”

“Yeah.” He looks around the hotel room, artificially inviting. Close enough to genuine warmth for him to not really give a shit. “I’m back at the hotel.”

“You’re rooming with Spencer, right?”

“Yeah, but he’s not back yet. Out with Brendon.”

Breezy sighs. “I think you should have someone physically there with you. Can you text Spencer and ask him to come back for you?”

“I guess.”

“Please do.” She’s quiet for a few seconds. “I love you, Dallon. I wish I could be there with you.”

“I love you too. I miss you.” He means it.

“I can stay on the line for as long as you need me to?”

“No, I- I’ll be fine.” Dallon fumbles for a second. “I’ll text Spencer. Love you. Bye.”

“Bye, Dallon. Love you. See you after tour.”

The loss of soft white noise once Breezy hangs up makes Dallon’s ears ring. He sprawls out on the bed for a moment before picking his phone back up.

_DW: Hey Spencer, can you come back to the hotel?_

_DW: … I need you around right now._

_Sodapop Smith: yeah man np_

_Sodapop Smith: ill be there soon ok?_

About 20 minutes later, the lock on the door clicks and Spencer walks in carrying a plastic bag from a convenience store. Dallon isn’t sure whether or not he wants there to be liquor in that bag. What the hell, you know it’s just as well. Not like today could get worse. “Hey, Dally.” His voice is a little sad, like he somehow already knows what’s going on. “I brought ice cream.” He definitely knows.

“Did Breezy text you?”

“Yeah.” Spencer sits down on Dallon’s bed, his back against the headboard. “She didn’t give me any details, really. Just told me you needed a friend right now.” He pats his lap, and Dallon moves from the pillow to rest his head there. Spencer’s fingers weave into his hair and start petting gently. “Want to talk about it?”

“Ryan doesn’t love me anymore.” The words bring forth a new round of sobs, making him shake and clutch at Spencer’s knees like a child.

“Hey, sweetheart, I’m sure that’s not true.” Dallon wonders if all his friends have a manual full of responses for dealing with his bullshit. “If Ryan didn’t love you, would he have asked me for a backstage pass just so he could come surprise you?” His hands shift so that one stays in Dallon's hair and the other rests on his arm.

"But I hurt him, Spencer. He's not going to love me anymore now that I've hurt him."

"If you love someone, that means you hurt them sometimes," Spencer sighs. "Doesn't mean you mean to. Just means you're close enough for it to happen. Now, I know you love Ryan. And from what I know about him, he's crazy about you. So tell me about him."

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything. Tell me how you fell in love."

Dallon closes his eyes to savor the memory. "It was the summer of 2008," he begins, his voice already a little stronger and steadier. "I'd only known him a couple weeks. I knew there was something right from the first time I met him, but I didn't make a move right then like I normally would have when I met a cute guy. But one night," the more he thinks, the more he can see the dirty, crowded basement behind his eyelids, "Drew got sick and couldn't play a show, so I asked Ryan to fill in on drums. It was incredible, Spence." If he focuses, he can hear Ryan's erratic tempos in the back of his mind. "He barely knew any of our songs, and he was going so fast I could almost swear he was possessed, but it _worked_. I had to tap my foot to make myself keep up with him. Anyone else, that would have pissed me off, but Ryan…" Dallon finally cracks a smile as his tears start to dry. "Ryan makes me want to be better. As a bassist, as a musician in general, as a person, as a boyfriend… I realized that night that I always want him with me, onstage or off."

Spencer's warm smile is evident, even though Dallon's not looking. He knows it's there. "Sounds like Ryan is to you what Linda is to me. Someone who keeps you sane.”

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘art should disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed’? Ryan is like that. He keeps me sane when I’m losing it, and drives me crazy when I think I’ve got it all together.”

“So… Ryan is art.”

Dallon turns over to look up into Spencer’s icy eyes, getting hit with the full blast of his smirk. “Like a marble statue. God, Spencer, he’s so gorgeous. Always has been.”

“What makes him gorgeous to you? I’m not disagreeing, of course,” Spencer continues to smirk as he talks, “but what about him does it for you?”

“Everything, fuck.” Dallon starts to stretch out, still resting his head in Spencer’s lap, but no longer curled in a tight ball on his side. “First off, he’s tall. Not compared to me, you know, but he’s close enough to my height that I can easily be level with him. That’s important to me. And, uh, he’s got this smile that won’t just light up a room, man, he could light up a whole house. And don’t even get me started on his laugh.” He barely even registers Spencer petting his hair anymore, he’s so engrossed in listing every detail of Ryan he can think of. “He’s muscular. I never thought I was into muscular guys before, and he’s not exactly shredded or anything, but he’s so strong. Sometimes I just look at his arms and my knees get weak because I know that’s all muscle there. And his eyes? Damn. He’s got eyes nothing like ours, like you can barely tell where the pupil ends and the iris begins, and that shouldn’t be pretty but it is because it’s _him_ , it’s like there’s obsidian set into his face. And his hair, fuck, he shouldn’t look so good with black hair, and I still think he looks better blond, but… Spencer, I’m fucked.”

“You really are.” Spencer’s hand moves from Dallon’s hair to his face, stroking his cheekbone with a thumb. “And you know what, I don’t think you could really drive away someone you love that much. Hurt him, yes. But not badly enough that he’d never come back.”

Dallon sits up and instantly pulls Spencer into a tight hug. “I’ll miss you, Spence. I think you’re the only friend I’ve got in this band.”

Spencer sighs before hugging back. “Sometimes I think the same of you. I’ll miss you a lot.”

There’s two beds in the room, but they both end up staying in Dallon’s. Spencer seems to need the contact just as much as Dallon does. After Spencer falls asleep, Dallon mills around the room for a bit, putting away the unopened and melted ice cream and strumming softly, aimlessly on his ukulele for a while. A chord progression sticks out to him, and he picks up a notebook and pen to quickly scrawl down some lyrics to match.

 _If I’m out of line, just show me the door_ _  
_ _I promise you I won’t beg you for more_ _  
_ _If you just tell me what you think about me_   
_Then we can collect all our clothes from the floor_ _  
_ _Just promise the next time that you take my hand is to show me the door_

Dallon uses his phone screen as a flashlight to make sure his handwriting is at least somewhat legible. Satisfied yet somber again, he opens his text messages.

_DW: I’m sorry, Ryan._

There’s so much more he wants to say than that, but the words won’t come together.

_Emo Ryan: I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have left you alone in that state._

_Emo Ryan: I hope you know_

_Emo Ryan: even when I leave, there’s nothing you could do that would stop me from coming back_

_DW: I love you_

_!ERROR: MESSAGE NOT SENT!_

He takes the error message as a sign, deletes the unsent message, and turns off his screen before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title for this one: Joseph unashamedly simps for Ryan Seaman and Spencer Smith. Just *clenches fist* drummers, you know?
> 
> Don't correct me on the lyrics for Door, they're intentionally wrong here
> 
> EDIT 9/6/2020: listen I can only excuse myself so many issues with the timeline.


	3. what has it cost you? i almost lost you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan realizes his worst fear about Dallon. rated T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set................ a while after the ending of it's so late. can't say how long without spoiling some things.

Ryan checks the address written on the tattered scrap of paper against the address on the building for the hundredth time. He only half-remembers asking, no, begging, Breezy for it. She’d seemed so sad when he asked that it was almost like the room changed colors when she finally caved in and began writing.

So now Ryan is here. Wherever “here” is. Somewhere in Missouri. He knocks on the apartment door.

“Ryan?”

Everything is a wreck, but God, is Dallon still beautiful. In fact, unnaturally pale and dressed in white among the dark wood paneling and green sculpted carpet, Dallon is radiant. Ryan can’t help the way the words bubble out of him.

“Why did you leave me?”

Dallon only shakes his head and walks away. Ryan follows. Dallon sits on the ugliest sofa Ryan has ever seen in his life, all threadbare black with faded yellow and red plaid stripes. Everything is so jarring, so out of place. Like living in a dadaist painting. Dallon most of all is out of place, his face still young as when Ryan first met him, despite having disappeared to this hellhole for years.

“Why did you leave me?” Ryan demands again.

“I think you already know.”

“Tell me! You owe me that after leaving me at the altar!”

“Ryan, I think you’ve always known, a little bit.” Dallon leans back, suddenly taking up too much space on the ugly sofa. Has he always been so tall? It's been so many years, the memory is distorted. Everything is distorted. "You're too good for me. And you were never going to see it for yourself. I had to leave for your own good, and if I waited any longer I was never going to be able to."

Ryan's tongue feels heavy in his mouth. Everything too heavy to move. "Dal, please," he chokes out, voice slurring, "I still love you."

Dallon shakes his head. "You never should have."

"Dallon?" Ryan calls out, finding himself suddenly alone. "Dallon?! DALLON?"

"I'm right here, sweet thing."

Ryan awakes in a cold sweat, looking up into Dallon's eyes. He's home, in their bed where they belong, not some rotting duplex in some nowhere town in Missouri.

"Was it a nightmare? I could hear you calling for me."

He nods, mouth too dry to talk. Dallon is here, and real, and that's all that matters. He's not young like in the dream. His hair is no longer sandy blond, but a deep brown like black walnut bark with a few faint silver stripes. There are crow's feet around his eyes. Ryan decides he likes Dallon much better this way.

"It's okay, Ryan. I'm here." Dallon leans down for a kiss.

The ring that Ryan gave Dallon months ago presses into Ryan's cheek. It makes him think back to the dream, and the pain of seeing him without his engagement ring. The words, though untrue, still sting.

Dallon grunts in surprise as Ryan pushes him onto his back and climbs on top of him, kissing him ravenously and kneeling between his knees. He sits up when Ryan begins tugging at his shirt, breaking the kiss briefly to pull it over his head. “Since when do your nightmares get you so horny?”

“Shut up,” Ryan whispers insistently, pushing Dallon back down and tugging at his waistband. “I intend to show you everything I love about you, and exactly how much I love it.” Taking a moment to admire the expanse of Dallon’s milky, unmarked skin, he smirks wickedly before ducking down between his lover’s thighs. “Be prepared for this to take all night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really hope the nightmarish feeling of the beginning came across? it's really hard to write dreams in a way that's realistic enough for it to be believable to the character (and to an extent, to the audience) but also nonsensical enough to be believable as a dream. Anyway this probably takes place just about eight or nine months after the ending of it's so late. for........ reasons.


End file.
